


Clan Territory

by goldarrow



Series: Animal Clan AU [4]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Pre-Slash, things get timey-wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 02:09:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20399935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldarrow/pseuds/goldarrow
Summary: Nick and Stephen are taken prisoner.





	Clan Territory

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anyone and anything recognisable as from Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. I mean no harm, I make no profit except satisfaction. I promise to return everyone in pristine condition once I’m done with them.

"Oh, hell." 

Cutter's whispered words described exactly Stephen's current state of mind. 

They'd had a shit day so far, having gone through a portal that they'd thought they’d seen Helen Cutter come out of - thought, because it had closed and then opened again before they managed to agree on whether to try it. As a result of that foray they had ended up in a place full of primitive plants and an excessively exuberant array of cold winds. 

However, since there hadn't been any signs of Helen’s passage on the other side, Stephen wasn't convinced they'd made it through to where she had come from the first time. Before they managed to turn into complete icicles in the freezing wind of the cold place, the portal had opened again and they’d run through as quickly as possible. But again, this newest portal had taken them someplace that certainly wasn’t the place they’d come from. They weren’t home.

They stumbled out into a forest, luckily a much warmer one than the one they’d entered on their first foray. They were warmer, but Stephen wasn’t sure they were much better off than they had been, given that they were now face to face with a band of men. Men wearing masks that looked like finely carved bird heads. 

Where in the name of all that was holy were they? 

"Speak! What Clan do you claim?" The man in the Eagle mask, obviously the leader, spoke rapidly. The words were in English, thank god, but with an odd accent that Stephen couldn't place despite his extensive travels during his gap year of conservation work. He wasn't even sure whether it was truly an accent, or simply an echoing effect caused by the mask.

"What?" Cutter sounded as befuddled as Stephen felt.

"What Clan? Are you Avian, Feline or Canine allied?" The Eagle raised the odd, short-barrelled weapon in his hand and pointed it at them. 

Stephen took a deep breath. He really didn't like the way the Raven-headed one in the background seemed to be staring at him, blue eyes glittering behind the mask. Should they be honest and say 'none'? Or should they lie and choose one and hope that it wouldn't get them shot out of hand?

Cutter took the decision. "We're not from this place," he said firmly. "We're here by accident and just want to get home." He nodded back over his shoulder at the portal, which was now flickering weakly and looked as if it was about to close again. "We came through that."

"Try again," the man said, sarcasm clear in the muffled tones. "That leads to the Cold Place. No one lives there."

Cutter snorted and bridled. Stephen stepped forward before the professor could open his mouth again and get them both killed.

"You're right," he agreed calmly. "We were stuck there for a few hours. We'd come through a portal from our home, and when this one opened, we thought it was the same one, and that it would take us back. Obviously it wasn’t," he added seriously. "We don't ally with any clan, but we don't consider any of them to be enemies, either."

The man examined him carefully, blue-grey eyes almost invisible behind the mask that covered his entire head. "Very well," he said calmly, lowering his weapon. "Come with us."

Cutter shook his head. "We need to stay here. If the portal home opens, we have to be ready."

Stephen dug an elbow into his side as the man raised his weapon again. 

"Cutter, there's no way of telling when or if the right one will open. It's coming up on night, and we have no shelter."

Cutter growled but conceded. "Oh, all right, then. We'll bloody well go along, for now."

The Eagle nodded sharply, spun on his heel and strode away, leaving the Owl, the Hawk, and the Raven to fall in around them as either honour guard or warders. Which it was, Stephen wasn't sure. Nor was he sure it made any difference. They had no choice but to go along.

They walked less than a mile before entering a narrow, steep-sided passage that would be very easy to defend. Just a cursory glance told Stephen that there were multiple ledges that could hold guards and watchmen. The passage opened out into a beautiful valley, orchards and tilled fields mixed in with what looked like both houses and shops.

He shared a nervously confused glance with Cutter. This was too strange. Where the hell were they? Based on what he'd seen through the last portal, he reckoned they'd gone through time. But this place, with its odd mixture of technology and non-technology, baffled him. The people spoke what sounded like modern English, but unless the oddness was an effect of the masks, the accent was off, not matching any country with native English speakers that he knew of. 

They passed between the fields of wheat and corn, and entered a large building at the centre of what could, if one were charitable, be called a village.

Once inside, the men escorted them to a room that contained a table, a couple of chairs, and two narrow beds. The furnishings didn't hold Stephen's interest for long, though, since on the table were two plates, two spoons and a pot that contained something that smelled heavenly. 

The Eagle nodded to the food. "Eat. Rest. We'll talk tomorrow when you're refreshed." He turned and left, the other birds following him, the Raven watching them over his shoulder until he was completely out of the room.

Stephen headed for the table at speed, but Cutter balked. 

"How do we know it's not drugged or something?" he asked.

Shrugging, Stephen spooned out what looked to be a savoury stew. "We don't. If you like, I'll eat first, then if nothing happens to me you can have some." He grinned evilly. "But it's likely to go cold."

Cutter growled, but sat down with him. "Ah, well, in for a penny," he muttered. "I'm so hungry I don't care if it's bloody poisoned."

"Neither do I," Stephen replied, "but if they'd wanted us dead they could have shot us any time with that weapon. It looked fairly lethal. And since I for one don't intend to lie to people who carry guns the like of which I've never seen before, a truth drug won't make any difference to me, either."

Cutter gave a rather Scottish-sounding grunt and dug in. Silence reigned with the exception of the muted clinks of their cutlery against the bowl and plates.

Once replete, Stephen stood, stretched and headed for the bed closest to the fireplace. He reckoned he'd kept Cutter warm in the last place, so he deserved the warm spot here himself. Yawning, he wrapped himself in the roughly-textured blanket and dropped abruptly into a deep well of sleep.

He didn't notice Cutter following him just as rapidly into unconsciousness, nor did he feel it when he was lifted and carried out of the room.


End file.
